ID
by xMissFortune
Summary: Regis had yet to conquer a more... complex emotion. One that would most likely destroy all of his dignity and elegance. The horror.


**Heyo! xMF here, with my first Noblesse multi-chapter. A little note for everyone reading this:**

**THIS STORY HAS NO PLOT! **

**Okay, I'm kind of lying here. But anyone who's looking for a dramatic, kick-ass, adventurous story will be hugely disappointed. This was namely supposed to be a humorous one-shot which I started ages ago (you may notice how the style of writing changed), but my idea escalated into what you're about to read and maybe (hopefully?) follow through to the end. So with that being said:**

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**50) 'I.D.' (Noblesse multichapter)**

**Summery:** Regis had yet to conquer a more... complex emotion. One that would most likely destroy all of his dignity and elegance. The horror.

**Char:** Regis

**Genre:** Humor, Friendship

**Rating**: K

**Beta: **unbeta-ed at the moment

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Noblesse. Dot.

I.D.

**Chapter 1**

Through all the 199 years that he had lived, Regis K. Landegre could hardly remember a time when he had had _this_ much trouble with containing his displeasure. The others, despite not living under the same roof for a long period of time, always seemed to know when he was struggling to keep a straight face and even managed to pinpoint the origin of his irritation. He acknowledged that it wasn't that hard to guess, as there was only one person in the entire house who managed to tick him off.

_Fine._

He admitted he was an open book sometimes (denying it would be petty and inelegant). But at those times he had enough intelligence to save what was left of his dignity by blaming the cause of his emotional state since it was, through and through, _completely_ that person's fault...

Really.

It was!

So while Regis knew that it wasn't all that surprising to the other residents of Frankenstein's estate to see him irritated and projecting it in one way or another-

An empty bag of chips was roughly pushed into the black garbage bag.

-it was completely uncharacteristic to see him doing so without even trying to keep a shred of his noble facade.

The person across from him couldn't help but chance a glance in his direction when a soda-can was crushed in his hand, crackling under his fingers, and shoved into the bag.

Continuing his cleaning onslaught around the living-room with a fury that could almost rival Frankenstein's, the young noble suddenly became very aware of the person staring, which only seemed to fuel his menacing aura.

His head snapped up and he hissed. "What?"

~~ ( O ) ~~

_A few days earlier..._

He honestly hadn't meant to see it.

Correction: He never _thought_ he would get to see it.

Nor did he even think about _seeing_ it. He could remember pondering about it in some distant memory, but he hadn't lost any sleep over it back then. He never asked, it was of no importance to him, and he reasoned with himself that he would learn of it eventually over time.

But that time never actually came, so he forgot all about it.

When he recalled it again, it was an evening like any other since he came here. The children were playing board games with them, laughing loudly and chewing junk food. Frankenstein was twitching with every crumple that escaped their mouths, and the rest of RK-4 were slowly but surely sweating in their seats with each subtle jerk of Frankenstein's face, momentarily forgetting that as long as the children were here- they were safe.

Only when one of the children called out, asking if 'ajussi' wanted a drink, was he once more reminded of it (thanks to Shinwoo actually, as he was the one who pointed it out). The other children took notice of it as well, though their attentions were subtly diverted by the hacker and marksman, but, for the first time, Regis' thoughts lingered on it.

This is how it all began. Of course, he wasn't aware that what he thought to be a small dent in the road would turn out to be an actually steep slope.

Suddenly he found himself paying more attention to the conversations they were having. Especially around _him_. Each meeting held his undivided attention. Each word was stored in a neat little pile inside his head, which he'd go through later. He'd dissect it, word after word with the precision of a surgeon, examine it, find nothing, and then move on. And hence forth until he'd reach the very skeleton, but with no results. Baffled, he would frown, vaguely wondering if he had missed it.

Then he'd rewind and put the whole thing back together so he could pick it apart more thoroughly. He'd search for it again, check each word once, twice, trice, in favor of finding a double meaning (there was none). His brow would twitch as he'd consider each word, one after the other, with seriousness of a conspiracy theorist staring at a cup of pudding; debating whether this was a nanobot-induced piece of sludge which would turn his insides out or, well, just a cup of pudding.

Huffing and scowling after coming empty-handed once more, he'd leave it alone (for now) and go to bed just a bit more irritated than the last time. The 'pouting periods' (as the household dubbed them), verbal jabs and a few sleepless nights that followed had _nothing_ to do with it.

Really.

They didn't.

This, of course, lasted, and while repeating this cycle a number of times, Regis found his determination waning. His attention span and nerves were exhausted, and each time he was reminded of it his newly developed habits were forced to drag their feet back and start the whole thing all over again while whining in protest at how pointless and impossible it all was.

But now... Now he was actually _staring_ at it.

There! Right there! On the floor, just between the coffee-table and the couch!

A small rectangle piece of plastic stared at him. And he, wide-eyed and shocked as he was, did the next best thing-

... he stared back.

A whole minute ticked away like that.

Slowly, as he came back to his senses, a sinking feeling spread through his stomach, and he suddenly became very conscious of his surroundings. The Noble quickly glanced around the living area as to confirm that he was the only one there, and even then that sinking feeling didn't go away. If anything, it only got worse when his eyes traveled back down to their previous destination.

Now, it wasn't the picture on the card that held his eyes firmly planted on it as much as the barely decipherable string of letters beside it that formed the origin of his turmoil.

A name.

M-21's name, to be precise.

Although he was considered one of the younger Nobles and hadn't had as much experience as others, Regis was _pretty sure_ that a human being was not just born with a name like M-21. That much was obvious. So as he held no regard for the man back then when they had first met (other than as a human who sold himself for power who had a suspicious job of a security guard at a high-school) he didn't much care what his name was, as long as he didn't make trouble (... or annoy him).

Only after certain events did he (despite arguing with the human on a daily basis) bond with him enough to call him a comrade. Friendship with that bumptious life-form with an aggravating mouth to match had been, at that time, out of the question.

But as battles and dire situations grew more numerous, so did his respect for the man. Somewhere alongside respect, friendship began to grow. Hence he was slightly taken aback when Shinwoo pointed out that no one, not even his co-workers, ever addressed 'ajussi' by his _real_ name.

He had to hand it to the boy, he really did have a knack for spotting details nobody else did (even though most of the time the said details were stupid and insignificant).

So there it was, an arm-length away, the letters on it still indistinguishable in front of him, on the floor.

Fingering the edges of his sleeves and biting his lip, he risked a glance around the room again before his attention was almost unwillingly pulled to the object of his temptation..

He shouldn't...

Really...

He should just leave it there, turn around, be on his merry-own-little way and pretend he never saw it.

...Yes, that was it. He was going to ignore it! Turn away, banish it from his brain, get ready for bed and, _oh Lord_, why was he still looking at it?

This was one of those rare times Regis felt like pulling his hair out in frustration and barely refrained himself from doing so. Why was everything related to this man so aggravating?! Why didn't he ever tell him his name?!

Well... he had never asked, but that wasn't the point! They were teammates and in the same group! They fought together, lived together! Hell, even before that he hadn't even bothered introducing himself when they first met! Regis listed this as another check on his ever-growing list why that man ticked him off!

The decision was final! He was going to see it.

His newly developed habits cheered and threw their hats up in celebration (balloons, confetti and everything), considering the whole ordeal finally over and done with when Regis took a step towards the plastic card.

Well it wasn't.

This was the turning point. The part where one unsuspectingly takes a pebble from a seemingly plain pile of rocks, blissfully unaware of the whole mountain suddenly collapsing down on him.

He bent down. His fingers trembled. The further he reached the more Regis was aware that there was no turning back. His fingers glided along the smooth plastic edge, picking it and lifting it up hesitantly.

No, this was wrong. He was just gonna sneak a peak at it and then put it right back where he found it. No harm done. No one would know. It wasn't a crime. He was just going to-

"Regis?"

He flinched. His hand instantly, as if on instinct, cupped the card in his palm and turned it away from the newcomer.

Oh (and pardon his profanity and inelegance here, but) **shit.**

Regis looked up abruptly and met the careful eyes of Takeo, who seemed quite puzzled upon seeing him. "What are you doing?

He broke into a cold sweat.

Oh God, did he see him? Was he aware of what he was holding in his hand? Was he gonna tell?! _Noooooo_, he was **doomed**! He would never be able live this down! Or- Even worse! _He_ would never let him live this down!

Takeo was still staring at the distressed noble, the prolonged silence awakening suspicion within him. Regis became increasingly aware that he needed to say something. _Fast!_ But what?

The truth! _What?_ _No!_

A-... A lie then? _Never!_

And thus Regis relied on his best (or maybe worst if his pride had a say in this) option ever to save his dignity. Playing dumb.

The white haired boy silently swallowed his saliva. "What- What do you mean?"

This... only made Takeo narrow his eyes further. "I mean," he slowly closed the door to the bathroom behind him. That growing sense of dread returned to Regis' stomach.

_'Oh Lord, here it comes!'_ He screwed his eyes shut, waiting for the accusation.

"Why are you still up? Don't you have school tomorrow?"

He blinked his eyes open. "W-What?"

"It's 1am." The marksman pointed to the clock on the wall with his thumb as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Don't you have to get up early?"

Regis' first reaction was to retort at the absurdity that he, a 199 year-old noble, was being ushered to bed by a human not even half his age, when he was interrupted. The long-haired man tilted his head. "What's that in your hand?"

Panic began to nib at his skin again. Aware that he mustn't be hesitant with his answer this time unless he wanted to arouse true suspicion, Regis uttered the first thing that came to mind."A chip."

"A what?"

The noble straightened up and coughed in his hand, not quite managing to dispel the nervousness in his voice. "Ah, I found a chip... on the floor. Crumbs and... all that."

Regis would have offered him an unsure (probably crooked) smile which would have given him away immediately had Takeo not visibly paled. With reflexes only the sniper had, he checked their surrounding for any unwanted observers or listeners (or house-owners with massive destructive powers of unknown origin and even more massive and destructive case of OCD). Biting his lip in sudden unease, the marksman looked at him again, giving him a nod. "Good job noticing it."

Regis took a moment to congratulate himself on dodging the question, for the moment ignoring the haunting echo of how he had just outright _lied!_ to one of his team members. Hopefully it wouldn't come back to bite him in the-

"Want me to get rid of it?"

... spoke too soon.

"Wha-What? No!"

The outburst, however small, earned him a particularly concerned look. "Um, I mean-" Now he's done it.

"W-What I meant to say was: no, don't... bother?" If Takeo heard the question mark, he didn't show it. Regis took that as a sign to continue to bail his tail out. "Y-You should go to bed. I'll see to it myself."

Takeo nodded. "Alright then, if you're sure-"

-"I am!"

. . .

Regis took that moment to mentally beat himself up, praying that he didn't just give himself away. _Again! _Takeo in response only watched the noble in light concern.

"O-kay? Goodnight then," Takeo turned and headed to his room.

"Ah, yes. Thank you. Goodnight."

"Sleep well."

He didn't.

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**Am I the only one here imagining Regis in his bed staring at the ceiling with wide and bloodshot eyes? No?**

**Until the next update!**

**xMF**


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